


On the Couch

by viceversa



Series: Split Second [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, No Plot, Sequel, Smut, no redeeming value
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-03 11:57:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15818409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viceversa/pseuds/viceversa
Summary: The tension broken, now what? Mulder and Scully reel from what transpired in the office - Scully takes charge.





	1. Chapter 1

Holy shit. What had we just done?

Or, maybe more accurately, what the hell did I just do to her?

We were arguing. She was shouting—something about me being an ass that didn’t listen to anything she said (I heard that part) and the next minute—

I had her up against the wall. 

Fuck me. 

We were in the office, the back corner. I don’t even know if we shut the door behind us. I was so angry I saw white and her legs were around me and my mouth was on hers and suddenly we were rutting and gasping and her skirt and my dick and then and then and then. 

Oh, god. 

Scully wanted this, right? She pulled my hair—I’ll have marks on my neck and back through my shirt from her nails. She bit me, bit my lip and it throbbed and stung. She kissed me back, she thrust against me. She came. Fuck. She came, legs locked around me, hands in my hair. My mind was racing faster than my heart. We just dry humped against the office wall like teenagers until we came in our clothes. 

What were we fighting about again?

Scully came. She came in my arms against me, around me, wiggling and moaning like a god damn sex kitten not half a minute ago and I came in my pants, thrusting against her. 

Jesus Christ. Now I was holding her up with my body because her knees were weak because we just—we just fucked against the wall. My eyes were shut, I couldn’t breathe steady yet. We were arguing. She’s so goddamn short—her shoes must’ve fallen off. Compact, sexy body. Her hair was tickling my nose. Scully smelled good, great, amazing. She smelled like sex. 

My elbows were digging in to the wall above her, my lower body braced against her so she wouldn’t fall, so she couldn’t escape. Her hands were on my ribs, fingernails digging in. Her harsh breath moving me back and forth. 

I tasted blood.

I couldn’t stand here forever, as much as I wanted to. I had to do something, I had to say something, I had to move to think to fix this to, fuck, to make sure this happens again but with less clothing and more contact.

Before I could think of how to do that she shifted slightly and rubbed against me, making my sensitive dick twitch against her stomach. Like fire my skin flushed up my chest. I felt my nipples tighten. I pressed into her with more of my weight. Fuck, Scully. Don’t move. Please move. Something.

I opened my eyes. 

She was looking up. We were inches apart. Less than that. Her pupils were blown wide, her mouth was parted. She was shaking, ever so lightly.

A beat passed. 

I didn’t know what to do. I had no idea. Still. I wasn’t thinking, I hadn’t been thinking, not for the last however-the-fuck-long all I wanted was again again and more and please and now my brain has stalled and I cannot begin to think of what to do. 

My panic face was having a field day. 

I spoke without a plan, as I’ve been acting all day. A syllable escaped.

“Scu—"

I didn’t get a chance to finish. 

Scully, she, fuck—it’s like she floated up. She rose I sank something happened like gravity, unstoppable, inevitable, emerging from the ashes, ascending into heaven. She raised herself on her tip-toes, as if in slow motion and fast forward all at once. I felt every centimeter of her body slide three inches up and then she then she then she. 

Scully thrust her tongue straight up, into my mouth, and moaned. 

Oh. My god. 

Action, immediately, her face was in my hands and my ass was in hers. Movement. Sliding, friction. Grabbing. More more more.

Noise. 

Moans—mine, hers, swallowing each other’s. 

What was happening? More importantly, why am I questioning? How am I even thinking when—

I wasn’t, apparently. 

Scully distracted me, she used her tongue and her hands and, fuck, her body, and distracted me because next I knew I was on my ass and out of breath and Scully was gone. She shoved me back and disappeared.

Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

Jesus Christ. Mary. Joseph. Holy ever-loving motherfuck goddamn. 

My brain gets blasphemous after sex. 

Especially, as I’m now realizing, especially after being fucked into the wall, to mutual orgasm by the way, by my partner in a fit of frustration and anger.

By some stroke of genius and instinct I got out of there, shoved Mulder back, fled the basement with my keys in hand. The parking garage was nearly empty. I had no idea what time it was. I just had to get out of here. 

Fuck. 

My tongue was just down Mulder’s throat. I put it there. Fuck if it didn’t feel amazing. Before that, my legs were around his waist and my hands were, well, everywhere. The I pushed him and he fell on his ass and I was out the door.

Talk about unprofessional.

This was too much to process. I—he—we—

Wait. Should I be offended about all of this? Should I be outraged that he just he just he just picked me up! And did—that! Should I be running back to the basement gun first and put a matching scar on his other shoulder?

No. No, I’m already at my car anyway. And, dammit, even I had to admit that I wasn’t exactly a reluctant participant in there. More enthusiastic than anything else. Fueled by rage. By frustration. By all out lust.

I am kind of pissed, though. At the whole situation. I slammed my door. How dare he choose this moment? This stupid, unremarkable, heat-of-the-moment moment to, to, do what we did and not, I don’t know, something different than that. I always imagined it differently. 

A little slower. 

A little more naked. 

A little less pulling and biting and scratching, a little more gentle and loving and sliding.

I cranked up the air conditioning and peeled out of the parking garage. After the first turn I had to shift in my seat. My underwear was becoming uncomfortable quickly, to say the least. It was hot in here. Too hot. I was sweating, burning up. Panties literally in a twist.

My mind went blank. I was home suddenly, the car parked and off, my hands still on the wheel. I barely had the brainpower to remember my keys before I zombie walked to my door, awkwardly hitching my step to combat the situation under my wrinkled skirt.

Every step was a reminder. My clothes were too rough for my skin, super sensitive from the assault of Mulder against me, me against the wall, all of Mulder against me, god I wanted Mulder in me. 

I nearly ran in to my own front door. 

Suddenly feeling foolish I shook my head, trying to dispel the creeping oblivion entering my periphery. Get it together, Dana, you’re not some shy, blushing virgin. 

But his arms.

I had to get out of these clothes. 

I stripped in the bathroom, throwing suit coat and blouse and cursed-blessed-evil skirt and assorted undergarments (that I didn’t even look at but would need to be soaked later) into the hamper. Shower to scalding hot. 

I stood under the spray, feeling everything, every bead of water stinging my skin, feeling absolutely nothing. 

I was in shock. 

Distantly, floating somewhere to the left of my body, my conscious played narrator. We argued. We fought like always. And then something changed. Something shifted. Something went wrong went right went oh so very right and damn I was getting horny just thinking about what happened next, about how he loomed over me, how he was there, and then in my space, moving me, pushing me up against the hard office wall and doing, doing, doing…

Doing exactly what I had wanted him to do for years. 

My eyes snapped open. Talk about a fucking epiphany. Literally. 

Jesus. I was losing my mind. I was finding it. I had to get back to him. I shut off the shower, drying haphazardly until I caught myself in the mirror –makeup was running down my cheeks, hair wild and tangled, my center still tacky and slick. 

It was a centering moment. Cleansing. One where you recognize exactly how fucked up things are and find the willpower necessary to fix it. I needed to take care of myself, before I took care of him. 

I stepped back in the shower and set to work. Washing. Conditioning. Shaving. Forming a plan.


	3. Chapter 3

This was one of those very rare and terrifying times in my life during which I had no earthly idea what to do. 

I was thoroughly screwed. In more ways than one.

But, I reminded myself, Scully kissed me. She kissed me, just moments after writhing in my arms. She kissed me post-haze, post-lust, after we’d gotten our breaths. She kissed me because she fully, absolutely, definitely wanted to, with tongue and with enthusiasm. 

Right?

Come on, Mulder, rally.

I couldn’t stay sprawled on the office floor forever. I kind of wanted to. Just living where she pushed me, indefinitely getting over my shock, reliving the moment over and over. But it didn’t work. Plus, the floor hurt my ass. I left for home, flipping on my coat haphazardly. I don’t think I ran into anyone on the way to my car but If I did they’re probably running scared. I know I look insane. 

I feel insane. 

Maybe I am insane. 

I made it to my apartment without killing anyone. I sat in my car for a while. I don’t usually do that because a parked car is not a safe place to be. Too many windows, too little space for my long legs, too many points of entry. But I sat. And I thought. Nowhere was safe. Especially right now. Maybe I’d live in my car. 

I had a sudden and irrational urge to feed my fish. I pushed it away. Responsibility wasn’t meant for the likes of me. 

I tried to think. It didn’t work. I couldn’t think anymore. I’ll never be able to think again without think about her smell her feel her body her tongue.

Her weight braced by my hips. 

Her hair in my fingers.

The way she shuddered when she was close.

That hot little moan she made when she came. 

Jesus. I was hard again. I had to get out of my car. 

I was at my door. I wanted to get into my apartment but the door was shut. That’s so stupid – why do I shut my door? Keys—right. Keys unlock the door. I fucked Scully. I fucked her through our clothes. I fucked her into the wall. The key goes into the lock and turns. Scully kissed me. Scully pushed me away and I fell on my ass. 

My ass hurts. 

I was inside, the other side of the door, looking around wildly – the fish, I’ll feed the fish, that’s something to do. Fish food can, open, pinch of food, sprinkled, fish fed. 

Fish fed. Now what? I stood, looking at the tank as they feasted on their meal. I don’t appreciate my fish enough. They’re always there for me. They don’t confuse me. They don’t kiss me and then knock me on my ass. 

I sat. 

My couch. Oh, my couch. My good old couch, full of memories. Not especially good memories. Sleeping. Nightmares. Jacking off, fantasizing about Scully – okay some good memories. It creaked under my weight. I never noticed that before. I was noticing a lot of things that I hadn’t before. 

The fish. The fish swam lazily. I wonder if they remembered their meal of 5 seconds ago. 

I remember mine. 

The taste of Scully’s lips, her neck, her hair, her tongue, it was all still in my mouth, slowly turning sour with time. I’d have to wash it away soon, with Chinese food and probably beer and more likely regret. Maybe tears. 

Ok that was a little melodramatic. 

Or was it not dramatic enough? Jesus Christ – my heart started pounding again, newly awash in the absolute horror of, oh god. I just. I did THAT. 

I lurched to my feet, pacing my too small living room, barely avoiding tripping over random shit on the floor. 

Scully was never going to talk to me again. She was going to transfer to California, as far away as she can get. Maybe even file a harassment report on me. 

She should do me the favor of just shooting me in the head. Put me out of my misery. If I didn’t have her, then there was no point in, well, anything. Nothing. Life would henceforth be even more meaningless than before. 

Shit! I tripped. Almost broke my nose on the coffee table. I stayed on the floor, suddenly without energy to move. This is where I live now. With the dust. And the hair. And flakes of fish food. 

I belong on the floor. Just where Scully put me.

Time passed. My brain had undergone so many chemical changes all day that it just shut down. I was dissociating. Following dust with my eyes. If the world had any meaning left, I should buy a vacuum cleaner. 

Eh. Who am I kidding. 

Bang! Bang! Bang!

What the fuck – gunshots? 

Bang! Bang! 

My door. Who would be? Oh, god. Scully. 

I hope she was here to shoot me. 

I hope she was here to kiss me again.


	4. Chapter 4

I was almost calm. I was the closest to calm I could get after what happened today. A very long, very hot shower. Shaving. Conditioning. Moisturizing. Lingering on the still-hot paths Mulder’s hands had grabbed, had touched, had caressed.

I didn’t know if I was washing him off or rubbing him in permanently. Hmmm. Rub. Friction. 

No – I can’t get distracted. I had a mission, a clear goal. Neither of which Mulder had earlier today. Spur of the moment my ass – that’s not my style. No. I plan. I assess the situation. I prepare. Well, I prepare now by shaving, um, places, and making sure everything is, um, fresh. 

Plan. Assess. Prepare. Attack. 

A calculated attack. I had plenty to say to him, to myself, but he didn’t give me the courtesy earlier so damn him, I wouldn’t either. I wouldn’t say a word. I wouldn’t give him a verbal inch. 

I wish I could finish grooming in a haze but my mind was hyper focused, detail oriented. I even painted my toenails with caution and reverence that reminded me of a psychopath’s patience. 

I was a little crazy today. I had reason. 

I walked through my bedroom in silence, feeling like a predator. I decided on my outfit while I did my nails. A black skirt – a reminder. But a loose skirt. A tight shirt, black to match, low cut, barely showing a lacy black bra. A little teasing never hurt. Minimal makeup already on. Standard heels. No jewelry, no hose, no underwear. That’d be his surprise. 

Part of his surprise. 

Keys, wallet. All I needed. It was the beginning of the weekend – I wasn’t going to need much else. Either this would go the way I planned, which it better, and I wouldn’t need anything else, or I’d end up right back here, searching through FBI job listings in California. 

Mulder’s apartment. Parking right up front, easy access. Not the only thing.

Mouth set in grim determination, hiding the anticipation, the uncontrollable nervousness. 

I stood outside of his door, staring at 42, 42, 42, breathing. I should really get out of this hallway. I haven’t had the best experiences in this area. Breathing more. Regular. Regular.

Oh, god, I’m not wearing any underwear, what a whore I am, Jesus Christ I should go home, call it off Dana, call it off. 

No. 

If I don’t do this, right now, right this fucking second, then it’ll never get done and everything, I mean everything, will be changed forever. Ruined. 

My hand, my fist, moved of its own volition and hit the door three times. I startled myself. Maybe I should’ve used my own keys. Walked in. Taken him by surprise, like he took me, took me.

No. I hit the door again. This is surprise enough. It better be. 

Seconds went by. His apartment isn’t that big. Maybe he’s not here, maybe he’s still at work, sprawled out on the floor where I pushed him, permanently in shock. Maybe I should just walk in—

The door opened. Mulder. Standing there, right there, disheveled, god, why is he so tall, standing at an angle, permanently knocked off balance. I understood. I hate craning my neck up at him. I love it. So masculine. Like I could climb him.

Our eyes made contact and locked.

He opened his mouth but no words came out – good. He shouldn’t have to talk. I didn’t want him to. I raised my hand, hesitating for a split second when he flinched. I did shove him earlier. Jesus. What a day.

He backed up before I could touch his chest and I followed, locking the door behind me, turning to face him. 

How the hell do I start this. Earlier it was out of anger and frustration. It was a snap attack. We barely survived. Then I caught his eyes looking me up, and down, and up again, resting on my chest. 

That’ll do it. 

My skin went red-hot, his eyes a magnet dragging my blood to the surface, towards him. 

I surged forward and upward, practically flying at him, and kissed him hard. Our teeth no doubt leaving bruises, bruises on top of bruises, my hands pulling his face down, into my face, tongues making raw contact, surging, slicking, mouths sucking. 

He suckled my lips, top, bottom, licked my teeth, moved my head back and forth. I did the same, feeling wetness trickle down my thighs, no cotton to pool in, no barrier to rub against, not this time. 

I craved his bare skin.

His hands. His hands in my hair, on my ass again, squeezing, thrusting. No wall behind me to obstruct his reach. Yes. God yes, I was on fire again, he was relentless and I gave as good as I got or better, plan out the window, this was happening now.

His couch. His couch is right there. Fuck it, fuck him, fuck the plan what plan who am I, the couch will do. Pushing. Walking. Steering. Fuck.


	5. Chapter 5

Oh my god. Oh my god. Jesus fucking Christ she’s here and she hasn’t killed me no oh instead, instead, she’s here and starting this again, but so, so much better. As good as killing me.

If this was death, I welcomed it. 

Sexy in her black outfit, so tight, so low, I could see so much of her skin. That’s what we missed before. Skin. Skin on skin. Slick and wet and friction, a different friction. Hot friction. 

We were moving. Somewhere backwards into a place, I don’t, where are we? I opened my eyes for a second, a second overwhelmed with red hair white skin Scully Scully Scully in my arms. In my mouth. I wanted my mouth on her, all over. 

My apartment. That’s where we’re at. 

She was pushing me, a different push, a guiding push, helping me navigate, how can she think of so many things? Scully’s so smart, so talented, especially with her tongue. 

We stopped. Next to the couch. The couch? That will do. But where to start – we have options now. I don’t talk through them, I let my body take control again. It went well enough last time. 

By the couch. Kissing. Groping. Our hands, all over. I hunched down, cursing my height, reaching her ass, grabbing, grabbing yes handfuls of her perfect ass, sucking on her neck right where it meets her shoulder. Licking up to her ear. Making her make that fucking noise, god, it drives me insane. 

I claw at her skirt, not holding any hope at finding a zipper, fuck the zipper, I claw at the fabric, raising it over her ass her smooth bare ass, bare ass. I grasp her bare, smooth, hot, tight ass.

Oh, Scully. 

Scully’s not wearing anything under her skirt. 

My knees buckle. I hit the floor. Scully’s not wearing underwear. Scully came over here, over to my apartment, with no underwear, in a sexy outfit, just so we could fuck with no barrier, nothing to get in the way. 

Jesus H. Christ. I’m so in love with her. 

I’m on the ground. My knees hurt. But Scully – Scully’s right in front of me. My hands are still gripping her skirt, her hands are in my hair. I nuzzle her stomach through the soft material of her shirt, tugging her forward. Yes. More contact. Want more. Need more Scully Scully Scully so soft so hot. 

I can smell her. No underwear. 

I slide my hands down and then up, fingers clinging to fleshy thighs, Scully-thighs, outside of her thighs then in. My face buried in her stomach, I can’t bear to look at her, to see her face as I touch her I’ll explode into a million pieces, shatter like glass. 

She’s wet. Dripping. I run two fingers back and forth, I feel her widen her stance, I hear her moan, feel her fingers pull my hair, and I moan too. Oh, Scully, what you do to me. 

My other hand pushes her skirt up in the front and I finally look at her face, god, her eyes wide mouth open panting my name above me. Then I look at her center. My fingers. Wet. She sways.

I’m right there. I can’t help it. I push two fingers, held tightly together, so slick so fuck me god, right into her dripping core, so hot, so, so, Scully. I feel her whole body shudder in the palm of my hand as I work my fingers in and out, helpless, caught in the slick push and pull of pure heat. 

One pull too many, legs buckle, Scully in my lap, Jesus Scully not wearing any underwear, my fingers in her. I bring my hand to my mouth, sucking on her wet her slick her pure Scully. On me, weight on my thighs, shuddering in my arms, sucking at my neck, sensory overload.

My eyes roll back in my head. I can’t think anymore. I’ve never had a thought in my life. 

She’s moving, moving away from me, no, Scully, come back my cock please please, she’s just on the couch, she’s laying back – oh smart, beautiful, brilliant Scully, what a perfect idea, a perfect move. 

I will my body to move and suddenly I’m upright, my pants falling, gone, my underwear gone, my shirt ripped off because who gives a fuck about buttons when Scully is on my couch spreading her legs and looking Jesus Christ on a cracker looking at me like that. 

I’m naked. She’s not. Scully’s not quite naked but naked enough and I’m hovering over her and pressing against her and fuck yes we’re kissing again. She’s such a fucking good kisser, gives everything, takes everything, just perfect my perfect hot sexy little Scully yes. 

Her hands, so delicate and strong, the slide down my body, running, chasing to where I need them, straight to my cock and fuck if I didn’t almost shoot my load right then and there because Scully’s hands were on my cock. 

And now and now and now, yes, god, please now I’m sliding into her, guided, right. As if I needed guiding, even though we’re both shaking so hard we might fall off the couch. But Scully has been my home for so long I don’t need directions, I don’t need a homing beacon. She is the center of my universe and I am inexorably drawn to her at all times. 

And now I’m inside her. 

Oh, fuck, Scully. You’re going to kill me. 

Echoes of motions hours before, against a wall, repeated here on my couch, fuck, I’m fucking Scully, Scully’s fucking me, we’re making goddamn love on my couch and I can barely stop myself from crying. 

In, out, in, out. Back and forth. I change my angle, now up and down, now closer to her, now grinding and kissing and heavy panting. Oh, yes yes yes we’re fucking on my couch and I love her so fucking much. I can’t believe. Can’t connect. That earlier. What I did – and now, what she did! 

So hot tight wet slick getting tighter – yes – oh, fuck, she’s coming, grasping my cock with her core, my back with her nails

There won’t be a day left in my life where I won’t hear her moans and feel her muscles clench as she came under me. I won’t ask for another thing in my life. I – I won’t – I can’t – oh, fuck, I’m coming – I’m coming inside Dr. Dana Scully, FBI. Oh, fuck, me. 

We pant. I can’t believe I’m still breathing. I’m collapsed on her, still bucking involuntarily. Sweat binds us, to each other, to the couch. 

I move my head just enough to meet her open mouth with mine, tongues soothing each others, slow, slow down, yes. I have a feeling she won’t knock me on my ass again. She pushes weakly at me, but I’m not ready to move. I want to lay here forever, on her, trying to absorb her, live between her ribs. 

Another push, this time stronger, and before I can react her legs get involved and my world spins, not for the first time today not at all and fuck me running I was wrong. I’m on my ass again. 

Part of me panics, just for a second, until I see Scully toss off her shirt and skirt and bra and disappear into my bathroom. What we had just done, Jesus, was a long time coming.


End file.
